


you're my, my, my, my (lover)

by renjunethereal



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Drama & Romance, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Inspired by Romeo and Juliet, Lee Jeno is Whipped, M/M, Nobility, Romance, Star-crossed, but so is renjun so its ok, extremely unedited I am so sorry, jeno likes renjun and isn't afraid to show it, no beta we die like men, renjun likes drawing and jeno, very very loosely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23471965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renjunethereal/pseuds/renjunethereal
Summary: Renjun and Jeno find each other in a world that's meant to separate themorthe noren star-crossed lovers au no one asked for
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno
Comments: 11
Kudos: 161
Collections: OBSCURE SORROWS FIC FEST





	you're my, my, my, my (lover)

**Author's Note:**

> AHHHHH SHES FINALLY HERE Jesus the amount of stress I went through trying to put this fic out phew but!!! We made it folks!!! Honestly I didn't expect it to be this long and I actually wanted to add a few things but I knew it wouldn't work with the deadline so if this is a little messy, sorry! 
> 
> this is my submission for obscure sorrows fest! Here's my word!
> 
> Ecstatic Shock: he surge of energy upon catching a glance from someone you like--a thrill that starts in your stomach, arcs up through your lungs and flashes into a spontaneous smile--which scrambles your ungrounded circuits and tempts you to chase that feeling with a kite and a key.
> 
> It's really only mentioned a few times but I think you can still see where it is.
> 
> On another note! I know that this is improper use of carrier pigeons, rich kid in the 1600s culture, etc etc but shhhh it's all for the plot. Title taken from Taylor Swift's song, Lover.
> 
> Have fun reading!

He’s at a masquerade ball.

Not voluntarily, of course. Ten had to drag him here, lamenting about how if Renjun stays in his room any longer he’s going to start dematerializing into the floor. They’re technically supposed to have a stricter master-servant relationship, but Renjun’s known him far too long to allow Ten to call him “Master Huang,” the term leaving a bad taste in both of their mouths.

So now he’s here, uncomfortable but not out of place in his lavender and silver suit and matching mask. He’s not sure who’s even throwing this ball, some heiress who’s name he can’t remember, but he will admit there’s something fascinating about a masquerade, how casting a simple air of mystery makes people confident enough to put on their flashiest, most outrageous outfits, all bright feathers and bold silhouettes and gaudy fabrics. People will do anything they want under the guise of ambiguity. 

Renjun scans the room, squinting under the bright lights of the chandeliers as he looks for the menace that forced him here in the first place. Despite insisting that he’d stay by Renjun’s side the whole time, Renjun managed to lose him to the crowd rather quickly. 

Huffing, Renjun slips from the dance floor to climb up the stairs, hoping to get a better view of the ballroom. It’s fairly empty up here, most of the guests sticking towards the lower floors to socialize and gorge on exorbitant amounts of food, and Renjun can’t say he doesn’t appreciate being able to breathe air that isn’t tainted by someone’s perfume. 

He’s still stuck in his reverie when he collides against something,  _ hard _ . He’s tipping backwards, arms flailing in an attempt to keep balance, before two strong arms reach out to steady him.

“I’m so sorry, are you alright?” It takes a moment for Renjun’s eyes to come into focus again, his forehead still throbbing from the impact, but when it does he can’t help but take a breath.

The person’s face is mostly obscured from his mask, but Renjun can tell he’s still  _ gorgeous _ , a bone structure a god would be jealous of, eyes dark pools of gold under the light of the chandelier. With his crisp white ensemble, gold embroidery running throughout, he looks nothing short of the prince Renjun used to hear about in fairytales. Maybe even an angel.

Said angel is looking increasingly more concerned the longer Renjun stares, and Renjun snaps out of it immediately.

“I—yes, I-I’m fine.” Renjun sputters. He can hear Ten cackle at the back of his mind.  _ For as smart as you are, Junnie, your brain turns to mush as soon as there’s a cute boy around.  _ He tells the Ten in his head to shut it.

“I wasn’t watching where I was going, I apologize.” Renjun says, belatedly realizing the angel’s still holding onto his waist and politely increasing the distance between them. The angel seems to realize this too, if the blush on his cheeks is anything to speak of. God, now he really looks like an angel.

“No, no, it was my fault,” The angel insists. “This, this place isn’t really my cup of tea, so I came up here to...to—”

“To take a breather?” Renjun tries, and feels an odd shiver of delight go through him when the angel smiles. 

“Exactly.” Neither make the move to speak, then, only the sound of the festivities going down below preventing it from being completely silent. Renjun lets himself watch, finally spotting Ten cozying up to not one, but  _ two  _ boys, one tall with an emerald green suit and the other black-suited, the constant flush on his cheeks whenever Ten so much as glances at him standing out against the fabric. Renjun lets out a breath of a laugh, silently wishing the two boys luck, because they’re going to need it.

He hears a throat clear, and finds the angel still looking at him, gaze tentative. “May I...may I have this dance?” 

“I don’t know if I want to go back there.” Renjun says, glancing back towards the crowded dance floor.

“Oh, believe me, I don’t either.” The angel laughs. “We can dance right here, though. You can still hear the music, can’t you?” He holds out his hand, the other tucked behind his back, and Renjun lets himself smile, if apologetically.

“I can’t dance.” Renjun admits, but finds himself taking the angel’s hand in his anyways. Maybe Ten was right—his brain really doesn’t work around cute boys. The way the other boy grins, the eyes behind his mask curved into crescents, makes Renjun think the embarrassment will be worth it.

“Just follow my lead.” He says, barely above a whisper as he puts a hand on Renjun’s waist. They’re not the most graceful couple of the night, but Renjun finds himself getting more comfortable with each step that he takes, the other boy counting out the beats under his breath. There’s a brief stint where Renjun steps on the other’s shoe, but neither really think too much about it.

Soon enough Renjun can’t be bothered to think about if he’s doing the right steps at the right time, too absorbed in memorizing every detail of the angel’s face. Renjun thinks he’d like to draw him when this night is over, would like to capture the way his eyes twinkle when he laughs at his own joke (they’re funny, so Renjun lets it slide), and the broadness of his shoulders.

He doesn’t realize how much time has passed until the bell tower rings, once, twice, three times. It’s midnight—far past Renjun’s curfew. 

Strangely. Renjun can’t find it in himself to be worried about it, not when the angel is going off on a spiel about something one of his three cats did yesterday, the sight too adorable not to watch.

“—I was in so much trouble. Imagine trying to explain how flower petals got into your cat’s fur while the gardenias were in utter shambles.” He finishes, giggling. Renjun giggles along with him, squawking indignantly when the angel spins him around only to lead him into a dip. 

“Renjun! Oh my god, there you are!” Ten’s voice shouts. Renjun feels the angel pull him back up into standing, and suddenly he’s much farther from the angel than he remembers being, Ten in front of him with his arms out.

“What did you do to him?” Ten seethes. Renjun shivers at the cold sharpness of his tone, like the blade of a sword. He’s only heard Ten speak like this a few times in his life, so to hear it directed at a near stranger is baffling. 

“Ten!” Renjun protests, but Ten keeps going.

“You better stay away from him, Jeno, if you know what’s good for him—what’s good for  _ you _ .” Ten jabs a finger into the angel—Jeno’s (?) chest, before grabbing Renjun’s wrist and stomping off.

Renjun lets himself sneak in one last glance, his heart squeezing when he looks at the hurt look in Jeno’s eyes.

“What the hell was that?” Renjun huffs as he and Ten walk down the front steps of the mansion, the cold air cooling Renjun’s overheated skin. “Since when did you yell at nice strangers?”

“He’s not just some stranger, Renjun, he’s a  _ Lee _ .” Renjun stops in his tracks. 

“A Lee?” The Huangs and the Lees have a long, long history, thought to be enemies even before the town of Verona was even built. No one quite knows why they hate each other, but it seems that since the dawn of time a Lee was born to hate a Huang, and a Huang a Lee. Undoubtedly, an uproar would occur if people found out Huang Renjun danced all night with Lee Jeno. Undoubtedly, his parents would have Renjun’s head on a spike.

They’re in the family carriage now, and Renjun feels a tug at his heart as the mansion starts disappearing from view. “I’m sorry, I know you were having a great time.” Ten says, voice soft and apologetic.

“No, no, it’s okay.” Renjun says. His eyes peer towards the window, looking blankly at the landscape that passes them. 

“It wouldn’t have worked out anyways.”

That night, Renjun blinks the impending sleep from his eyes as he looks over his sketchbook, a single candle his only light source as he draws the same enchanting smile that will later haunt his dreams.

. . . 

He doesn’t see Jeno again until a few weeks later. Renjun won’t admit it, but the only reason he’s been going to more balls lately is to hopefully catch even a glance at Jeno, at the angel that’s been in his dreams more times than Renjun’s comfortable thinking about.

Like before, Jeno seems to somehow materialize when Renjun least expects it. He’s squinting at the concoction in his glass, wondering if it’s responsibly sound of him to drink it if he doesn’t trust the person that handed it to him in the least (a second cousin that’s always been a little bit too touchy with him), when a familiar voice creeps up behind him.

“Hello again.” Jeno says, eyes widening when Renjun startles and drops his glass. The shatter makes more than a few pairs of eyes peer up at him, and Renjun smiles apologetically, embarrassment coursing through his veins. 

“Jesus, you’re going to kill me one day.” Renjun says, turning to the other boy. He’s not sure how to act now—should he be more aggressive? More sardonic? Being hostile towards someone is hard when you were literally and figuratively swept off your feet by them a couple of nights ago.

“Sorry.” Jeno says sheepishly, softly gesturing Renjun to step away from the broken glass and into a secluded corner. He looks a little less otherworldly now in a simple blue jacket and matching waistcoat, but just as ethereal.

“So,” Renjun starts, back straight and eyes searching. For what, he’s not sure. “You’re a Lee.” 

Jeno stiffens, but doesn’t back down. “And you’re a Huang.”

Renjun lets himself smile. It’s a lopsided little thing, could be mistaken for a grimace at first glance, but a smile nonetheless. “I don’t suppose you’d be in favour of fighting to the death.”

“No, no I wouldn’t.” Jeno smiles too, eyes twinkling with amusement. He clears his throat then, the twinkle gone as he schools his face into a more serious expression.

“All jokes aside, I honestly didn’t know who you were. I didn’t mean to...deceive you.” Jeno says, looking like the personification of a kicked puppy, eyes wide and lips just on the verge of a pout. Damn, how is Renjun supposed to hate his supposed mortal enemy when he looks like  _ that _ ? 

“I didn’t either,” Renjun says, sincere. “If I knew better we wouldn’t be here in the first place. If anything I just thought you were an angel.”

Oh. Did he say that last part out loud?

From the way Jeno’s eyebrows raise and the way his cheeks blush bright pink, Renjun’s suspicions seem correct. 

“I see.” Jeno says, sounding pleased even as his flattered flush travels all the way to his ears. 

“Well, if that’s everything,” Renjun says, feeling thoroughly embarrassed as he resists the urge to pull at his suddenly too-tight collar, “I’ll be taking my leave now.”

He makes it two steps away before a hand grasps his wrist, gentle yet firm. “Wait!”

When he looks back, Jeno’s looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes, mouth open as he struggles to form words.

“I...I would like to court you, Renjun. If you’d let me.”

“Court me?” Renjun repeats, turning around fully to look at Jeno incredulously. He ignores how much his heart pounds. “And how do you suppose that would work out?” 

He knows what it implies. Knows that it would remind him both of the uproar, the horror on their families' faces, the impending doom for both of them. This isn’t just a cat walking over the gardenias, this is destroying the whole garden, burning it to the ground.

“I know! I know,” Jeno says, “but they don’t have to know. I’ll send you letters. Gifts. Anything you want. I just—I just want to get to know you.”

He should scoff. He should laugh right in Jeno’s face, tell him he’d sooner die than be courted by a Lee. Yet...he can’t. There’s too much honesty in his voice, too much charm in the way he smiles lopsidedly, slightly crazily. And Renjun was always weak for honest, charming, slightly crazy boys.

A brief silence washes over them. Renjun lets Jeno sweat, lets him get hot under Renjun’s gaze, before he opens his mouth to answer.

“I expect a well-written letter tomorrow morning. If you’re smart you’ll get it delivered particularly early so that my parents don’t catch it.” Renjun uses Jeno’s grip on his wrist to bring the boy closer, close enough to see him tremble when Renjun brings his mouth to Jeno’s ear.

“Don’t screw this up, Lee Jeno. I have high hopes for you.” He pulls away then, smiles at Jeno’s gaping mouth, and promptly walks back to the party. 

He waits five minutes before letting himself go, a deep exhale leaving him as he lets himself breathe again, lets his cheeks heat and that same strange sense of delight run through him. As much of a front Renjun put up minutes ago, he’s excited, dare he say giddy as he thinks about the letter that’ll await him tomorrow morning.

Another part of him, probably the more rational part, reminds him how bad of an idea this is, how much shame he’ll bring to his family name, how much shame he’s already brung these past few weeks. The reminder falls on deaf ears.

. . . 

The first letters, as sweet as they are, are hell to get, each and every time. Renjun wakes up at the crack of dawn, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he looks out his window, waiting with the rising sun for the mail carrier to arrive. 

“Good morning, Young Master.” The mail carrier says, puzzled yet decidedly silent as Renjun greets him at the door, still in his sleepwear. 

“Morning, Kun.” Renjun greets. Their conversation is as short as Renjun could possibly make it without sounding rude. Kun is a good man, with kind eyes and dimpled smiles, but he has more important business to attend to.

He finds Jeno’s letter immediately, mostly because the envelope has his name on the front in swirly cursive, far too large and far too nice to simply throw away. Renjun makes a mental note to save it in a drawer somewhere before dumping the rest of the letters on the front step and running back upstairs before anyone can notice he’s up.

Jeno’s letter is endearing, almost cloyingly so. It’s filled with cheesy little limericks and jokes and anecdotes that make Renjun giggle under his breath. He can tell Jeno is trying hard to impress him, yet it’s never insincere, never enough to make Renjun feel annoyed or irked. It’s...cute. Jeno is cute. 

“Renjun? Are you awake?” Ten’s voice is muffled, but Renjun can hear it coming closer and closer. Heart pounding, Renjun throws the covers over himself and squeezes his eyes shut, his chest tight with held breath.

There’s three unbearable seconds of waiting before he can hear Ten sigh, muttering something about how Renjun sleeps like the dead, and Renjun doesn’t bother feeling offended because he’s too busy sighing in relief when he hears his door close, Ten’s footsteps fading away. 

They operate like that for a little while, Jeno sending increasingly sweeter and sweeter messages and Renjun doing his best to reply cheekily, though sometimes he can’t help but coo a little bit at Jeno's antics.

Eventually Renjun manages to convince Jeno to get carrier pigeons after one too many close calls, the last letter having to be slowly coerced out of Ten’s hands because Renjun woke up late and Ten was already at the door, unsubtly looking Kun up and down. Luckily Kun managed to distract him enough that Ten didn’t protest when handing the letters off to Renjun, too busy looking at Kun’s dimples. Renjun mentally reminds himself to thank Kun the next time he sees him.

Carrier pigeons are undoubtedly much less stressful, though a part of Renjun will miss waking up to the morning sunrise. There’s also something a little bit romantic about it—the secrecy, the delight that shivers up his spine of seeing that familiar bird on his windowsill, sometimes on the railing of his balcony, waiting for him. Renjun learns two letters later that Jeno’s named him Periwinkle, because that’s Renjun’s favourite colour, and Renjun swoons as much as he rolls his eyes.

It takes him three more letters before Renjun feels comfortable enough to send Jeno some of his drawings. He usually never shows them to anybody but Ten—not necessarily because he didn’t want to, but because no one really seemed to have an interest in it, not even his parents. Art was never really a particularly coveted skill to the Verona nobility, after all. He didn’t think Jeno would be interested either until Renjun mentioned it offhandedly once and was met with eager enthusiasm. 

After spending way too much time fretting over it, Periwinkle tilting his little head questionably as Renjun fingers through his sketchbook, he throws caution to the wind and sends Jeno the portrait he drew of him the night they met. 

He spends the rest of the day in a state between total acceptance and complete paranoia. One minute it’s fine, he’s fine, the next his eyes widen because  _ oh my god what if he thinks I’m really creepy and never wants to talk to me ever again _ . He thinks Ten can feel his anxiety, because he asks him what’s wrong, and Renjun almost lets it slip. Almost tells him about this amazing boy he’s been messaging for months, but he doesn’t. Because for as good of a friend Ten is, he could never tell him. It’s too much of a risk.

“Nothing. Haven’t been sleeping well lately, is all.” Renjun says. It’s a terrible lie, both of them know it, but Ten doesn’t press on. 

Jeno’s letter comes the next day when, like clockwork, Periwinkle perches himself on Renjun’s windowsill, a scroll held tightly in one claw.

Renjun unfurls the scroll with shaky hands. He knows he has no reason to be nervous—Jeno wouldn’t insult a housefly, let alone a drawing of his own face—but his heart still beats rapidly as his eyes gaze over the letter.

Renjun’s shoulders tense, strings pulled taunt, tighter, tighter, until they snap apart, the tension gone. God, Jeno really  _ is  _ an angel. 

Jeno’s letter is filled with nothing but overwhelming praise, the boy seemingly making it a point to improperly use exclamation points as much as possible. Renjun is so relieved he could cry.

The cherry on top is at the bottom of the scroll—a crude but legible drawing of a baby fox, right below it a neatly written ‘Renjun’.

Renjun collapses onto his bed, letter still in hand. He grins, grins so brightly and so wide that his cheeks ache with the effort.

“What should I do, Periwinkle?” He sighs dreamily. Periwinkle lets out a short purr, as if to say he doesn’t know either. “I like him, I really like him.”

. . . 

To say Renjun’s excited is an understatement. He’s already dressed in the outfit he meticulously thought out the night before, hair combed from knots and rearranged thousands of times from Renjun’s indecisive hands.

He tells his parents that he’ll be going out with some friends to check out some shops today, and almost feels bad when he sees his mother’s delighted smile, because he, of course, isn’t going anywhere near those shops. Instead, he heads off to the stables, trying to make quick work of saddling up his horse—a brown mare with white spots he’s affectionately named Daisy—because she keeps sneaking into the gardens and eating them.

Today marks his first date with Jeno.

At first it was hard to figure out where they could meet. Being sons of the two most influential families in Verona would already warrant some attention, but being supposed mortal enemies while walking around with their hands clasped doesn’t particularly help their case either.

Renjun, truthfully, has no idea where they’re going. All Jeno told him was to wait for him at the edge of the forest just outside of town, bring his horse, and that the rest would be left up to him.

He busies himself with petting over his horse’s fur as he waits, trying to calm how he’s practically shaking with excitement. He hasn’t seen Jeno beyond a few knowing glances at each other at various balls and parties, so he hasn’t even spoken to him face-to-face in months.

The sound of hooves stomping against the ground interrupts Renjun’s train of thought, becoming louder, louder, until Renjun can see a white horse galloping up to them, a familiar figure on it’s saddle. 

Jeno’s gaze is on his horse for a moment, leading it into a complete stop, but when he looks up, when they finally get to look at each other without the company of other people’s watchful eyes, it’s like coming home to a warm fireplace in the middle of a snowstorm, warm and loving and everything Renjun wants. He grins, simply on impulse.

“So, will you tell me where we’re going now or is this when you murder me and throw my body to the wolves?” He jokes. Jeno lets out a hearty laugh, slowly steering his horse around so that they’re side by side. 

“As much as I’m sure my family would love that, there’s no murder on the itinerary today. I figured we could just do some horse riding—I have, uh, a special spot I want to show you.”

Renjun ignores how his heart stings when Jeno brings up his family, choosing to focus on the last thing he said. “See, now that’s exactly what a murderer would say.”

Jeno lets go of the reins for a brief moment to jab at Renjun’s shoulder, not looking the least bit apologetic when Renjun squawks in protest.

“Follow my lead, yeah? First one there gets a kiss!” Jeno says, and Renjun barely has time to blush and splutter before Jeno’s suddenly far out into the distance.

“That’s not fair!” Renjun yells, snapping his reins to go after him.

Renjun, predictably, is the last one to get there.

“There”, being the most gorgeous clearing he’s ever seen in his life. He never knew the forest was so beautiful—even on his way here he could see the different types of trees that mingled together, the chirp and purr of the animals in the trees, the bees and hummingbirds that hovered over the flowers. 

What particularly catches Renjun’s eye is the waterfall that washes over a rocky cliff, powerful and imposing as it pours into a pond that leads way towards the town river. 

With Jeno there waiting for him near the shore, hair blowing in the wind and saddled on his pristine white horse, Renjun feels as if he just walked into a fairytale.

“Looks like I win,” Jeno says, smug as he wiggles his eyebrows at the other. He’s become much more confident than when he first met Renjun, and he can’t say he doesn’t like it.

Renjun rolls his eyes as he steps down from his horse, letting himself stroke over Daisy’s hair before he turns to face a now standing Jeno.

“A deal’s a deal,” Renjun says, playing along. 

Jeno looks like a smug little puppy as he leans forward expectantly, eyes closed and mouth curled into a smile. Renjun thinks he can see his tail wag excitedly.

“Come closer,” Renjun beckons, and Jeno pouts his lips, leaning in closer, closer, lips meeting...cold, damp skin? Renjun can’t contain his laugh, the sound ringing out as he looks at the sight before him.

Jeno is currently kissing Daisy’s snout.

Renjun laughs even harder at Jeno’s reaction, the way he squawks and flails himself away, wiping Daisy’s... _ horseness _ off his mouth with his sleeve.

Renjun’s laughter only dies down when he finally looks at Jeno properly, taking note of the challenging, almost predatory smile on the boy’s face.

“You’re going to pay for that.” Jeno says, before taking off towards the other boy. Renjun lets out an indignant squeal of his own, the two running around and in between each other’s respective horses before Renjun trips, his body falling hard and fast towards the pond. He thinks he can feel Jeno tug at his shirt, trying to pull him back onto the ground, but it merely pulls him along for the ride, both of them falling into the water with a splash. 

They come up to the surface at the same time, both desperately gasping for air as they wade in the water. They look at each other, at their soaked hair and even more soaked clothes, eyes wide.

“Well shit,” Renjun sighs, though he’s not necessarily mad. Surprised, more like. “Now what do we do?”

Being naked in front of an equally naked Jeno isn’t as embarrassing as Renjun thought it would be. Sure, there were some wandering eyes as they laid down their drenched clothes on a large rock to dry in the sun, but other than that Jeno has been nothing but gentlemanly, focusing instead on making sure that their clothes were smoothed out so they didn’t dry wrinkled.

Still, Renjun can’t help but notice the strong line of Jeno’s shoulders, how his back and arms flex ever so slightly. 

He keeps unintentionally staring at Jeno even as they decide to swim around in the pond as they wait for their clothes to dry. Jeno notices, because as much as Renjun would like to deny it he’s not the most subtle person in the world, and smirks teasingly.

“See something you like?” He says, to which he gets a splash to the face.

It escalates to them splashing water at each other like kids, Renjun having to close his eyes at one point to avoid getting water in his eyes (doesn’t stop him from getting any up his nose though).

At one point when they’ve tired out and are content with wading with their backs to the water, Jeno speaks up.

“Y’know, I still haven’t gotten my kiss yet.” He says. Renjun maneuvers himself to an upright position to face him, an eyebrow raised.

“Really?” He says, surprised that Jeno hasn’t forgotten about the bet at this point. “I thought Daisy gave you a pretty good one.”

Jeno honest-to-god pouts, and Renjun can’t help but be a little bit endeared. “You know that doesn’t count.”

Renjun sighs, doing his best to act exasperated. “Fine. Close your eyes.”

Jeno does so obediently, though he looks considerably less smug than the last time. “No tricks this time, right? You’re not holding a frog behind your back?”

Renjun laughs. “Stop giving me ideas.” 

Jeno shifts his head to the side, and Renjun raises his eyebrows. He guesses that Jeno must not be expecting much if Renjun’s been playing hard to get for this long.

Lucky for him, Renjun always intends to keep his promises. And maybe he does actually want to kiss Jeno, too.

He hears Jeno let out a confused noise, not unlike a puppy as Renjun’s lips meet his. He melts into it easily though, arms reaching to hold Renjun’s waist under the water, and Renjun’s content to run his fingers through Jeno’s damp hair.

“Happy now?” Renjun asks, not protesting when Jeno goes in for another kiss.

“Very.” He says, before Renjun puts his hands on Jeno’s shoulders and pushes him down into the water. 

He squeals when Jeno pulls him down with him, not going down without a fight, and if they kiss again under the water, then that’s their business.

. . . 

Everything’s just so  _ easy _ when it comes to Jeno, as easy as breathing. So when reality washes over him, cold and overwhelming, he’s left gasping for air. 

He hasn’t been paying attention at dinner lately, or really anything that isn’t about Jeno. He’s busied himself with drawing more sketches of Jeno lately, of him laughing, him fixing Renjun with a teasing look, him looking off to the distance, showing off his defined nose.

It’s not like there’s much to pay attention to in the first place. Dinner talk is stale, each and every time. If it’s a good day, his parents will talk about plans for an upcoming event, his mother already imagining all the lavish decorations she’ll set up. They used to ask him for his opinion, or at least pretend to, but Renjun’s made it very clear he wants nothing to do with their parties a long, long time ago. On the bad days, Renjun resists the urge to slam his head into the table as his mother rants about whatever particularly irked her that day, a maid bumping into her, a lost earring, his father humming noncommittally. Sometimes it’s the other way around, which is even worse. 

He likes his parents, he does, it’s just that they can be so unbelievably...vapid. 

“—jun? Renjun? Are you listening, dear?” His mother calls, her voice snapping him back to the present. 

“Sorry, what did you say?” His mother sighs, and Renjun’s cheeks colour, embarrassed. 

“We were talking about what happened in the town square today.” His father says. “Your cousin Yukhei got in a fight with a Lee, and bested him.” He grins proudly, as if the achievement was his own.

Renjun stops picking at his food. “A Lee?”  _ Jeno?  _ his mind supplies.

“Yes! I heard the fight was vicious, but in the end it was Yukhei with his sword to that scum’s throat.” His father says. Renjun tries not to wince, the image of Jeno kneeling before his cousin’s broad form sending shivers down his spine.

“Serves him right, he was the one who started it in the first place.” His mother chimes in, haughty. “Lees, such hostile, quarrelsome people. Animals, I tell you. Animals.”

“Which...um, which Lee was it?” Renjun says, shoulders tense as he braces himself for the answer.

“I believe it was that Donghyuck boy,” his father says. Renjun sighs internally. Thank god. 

“I’m not sure, I don’t often learn the names of vermin!” His voice cracks at the end of his sentence, his laugh a loud presence in the dining room. His mother laughs with him, as if it’s the funniest joke she’s ever heard (it might just be, Renjun’s met her friends). And Renjun—Renjun’s gone back to picking at his food. 

“I doubt that they’re that bad.” Renjun says softly, almost inaudible under his parents laughter. He knows exactly how not bad a Lee can be, and that thought alone makes him hold his fork tighter.

The laughter dies down quickly, uncomfortable silence quickly taking its place. Renjun cringes internally.

“What did you say, Renjun?” His mother’s voice sounds as sweet as always, but in the same way wine would be before your breath starts getting shallow and you realize it was poison all along. 

“I said that I don’t think they’re the foul beings you make them out to be.” Renjun blurts before he can stop himself. He hears a twin intake of breaths, and closes his eyes. He’s really done it now.

“Renjun, look at me.” His father says. It’s not a question, it’s an order. Renjun keeps his head down.

“Look me in the eyes, son.” Renun winces at the stone cold edge to his father’s voice, and slowly tilts his head up. Neither of his parents are smiling now, faces cold, cold, so cold. Renjun shivers, feeling like he can’t move any of his limbs, can’t even tear his eyes away.. He’s numb.

“I want you to understand one thing,” his father says. “When I was a young boy, around your age, my father—your grandfather—got stabbed, right through the skull.” 

“Do you want to know who stabbed him?” He says. Renjun tries to let out a calming breath, swears he can see the cloud in front of his face at his father’s icy words. 

“A Lee. He wanted my father’s influence as a merchant, but knew he could never get it with him around. So like a soulless, spineless, dishonourable  _ coward _ ,” he spits the last word out like a curse, and Renjun flinches, “he kills him. Tell me, does that sound like a good person to you? Someone you would let into your home?  _ Our  _ home?”

Renjun looks down at his plate. “No.” 

“If you really mean it, say it to my face.” His father orders. Renjun looks up again.

“No.” He says with as much firmness as he can muster. “No, I would never let someone like that into our house. I—I’m sorry for thinking otherwise.” His chest feels tight, and he prays to god he doesn’t cry at the dinner table. His parents always hated it when he cried.

“It’s quite alright, dear.” His mother says, not having spoken in a while. “I think dinner’s finished now. You can go up to your room.” 

Renjun can’t get out of his chair fast enough.

. . . 

Seeing Jeno again face to face is almost cathartic. 

Everything seems to move in slow motion yet too fast all at once—one minute Renjun is weaving his way through the trees, just stepping into the clearing of green grass and picturesque little wildflowers, the next, Jeno is there, and then Jeno is  _ everywhere _ , his arms around Renjun’s waist, his voice in his ears, his torso a firm weight in front of him, comforting and heart racing and  _ perfect _ .

“Hi.” Jeno says. Renjun’s greeting gets lost in the junction between Jeno’s neck and shoulder, too busy breathing in his scent.

It takes them an embarrassing amount of time to separate, but once they do Renjun’s eyes drift towards the basket in Jeno’s hands.

“Are we having a picnic?” Renjun asks, watching as Jeno grins, eyes curved up into crescents. Renjun tries his best not to swoon—he could never get tired of that smile.

“I packed all your favourites.” Jeno says as he intertwines his free hand with Renjun, starting to walk them deeper into the field.

Renjun lets out of a breath of a laugh. “You know my favourites?”

“Nope!” Jeno says, honest. “But I sounded cool, right?.” That gets a full laugh out of Renjun, the latter giving Jeno a playful push on the chest.

It’s almost disgustingly saccharine, how all time seems to slip away with Renjun’s with Jeno. He doesn’t know how long they lie on the picnic blanket Jeno lays out, eating the seemingly endless amount of snacks that Jeno pulls out of his basket. Turns out that Jeno  _ had _ packed a lot of Renjun’s favourites, mostly because their favourites were the same. It ends up with them kissing a lot more, or maybe just an excuse to, chasing the flavours on each other’s tongue.

Renjun wonders what it would be like to have this all the time, to have Jeno in his arms, his laughter in his ears, his lips on his. He then gets reminded of his family, of  _ Jeno’s _ family, and sighs.

Jeno, immediately sensing something is wrong, looks over worriedly. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is...is perfect.” Renjun says. It’s not a lie. Right now, in this moment, Renjun is getting everything he’s ever wanted, but what then? What happens when the day is over, Renjun goes back home, Jeno to his? What happens a few years down the line? Just how long can they keep hiding?

“It’s just…” Renjun starts, slightly wistful “do you ever wish you could just run away from all this?”

Jeno looks at him, searching, but not forceful. Renjun likes that about him, that he can always look him in the eyes without feeling like it’s a challenge.

“What do you mean?” Jeno asks.

“I don’t know, just—this whole  _ thing _ , with our families’ history and who we are, it’s so stressful” Renjun says, “and I want to be with you,  _ god _ I do, but sometimes I just wish...we could just be Renjun and Jeno. No family history, no nobility, no nothing. Just us.”

There’s a brief silence between them, and Renjun wants to sink into the grass, thinking that he’s just ruined everything, when Jeno speaks again.

“You know I’d follow you anywhere, right?” Jeno says, and Renjun could cry at how confident he sounds, how honest he is. 

“If you wanted to disappear from here in a year, a week, or right now, I’d come with you. If you wanted to live in the forest in a quaint little cottage with a little bird house for Periwinkle I’d drop everything immediately. If you wanted anything, Renjun, anything at all,” Jeno’s eyes bore into Renjun’s, wide and trusting and  _ loving _ , “I’d do anything to get it for you.”

Renjun kisses him then, because there isn’t any more to say, no better way to describe how grateful he is to have Jeno here, to have Jeno be  _ his _ .

Soon enough the sun sets on them, leaving them be as they wrap up in each other, legs entangled, and suddenly their only light source is the moon and what must be thousands of millions of stars. 

He can barely see him now, but Renjun thinks that even in the cover of darkness that Jeno is beautiful, his features still so striking, eyes dark pools of stardust and galaxies as he gazes up at the night sky.

Jeno turns his head to look at him then, and feels as if he’s being struck by lightning, adoration and joy and the kind of love poets can only dream of writing about surging up his spine and over every nerve, and it’s too much, too much, he has to say it—

“I love you.” He says softly.

He sees Jeno’s lips part, eyes wide and shiny, and Renjun almost takes it back,  _ I’m sorry, forget I said that _ , almost lets his heart split in two, except Jeno’s lips meet his before he can.

It’s different from how they usually kiss, yet familiar at the same time. There’s still that sense of longing, that firm gentleness, gentle explosions and soothing storms, but there’s more force, more urgency, as if Jeno is trying to tell him something, trying to shake Renjun’s very soul.

They break apart with a gasp, soft pants making their chests rise and fall, their hearts beating on the same wavelength. They stay like that for a while, just basking in each other’s presence, forehead-to-forehead, before Jeno opens his mouth, his lips brushing against Renjun’s as he speaks. 

“I love you too.” Jeno says, and Renjun smiles so wide that their teeth clack painfully when he goes in to kiss him again.

. . . 

Renjun should come home to a dark house. He should come home to calm, quiet ambience, the crickets chirping outside and Renjun’s careful steps on the hardwood the only sounds in an otherwise silent house.

Renjun, unfortunately, does not come back to that.

He comes home to his mother and father sitting in the living room, the candle on the side tables making harsh shadows cast over their already harsh, pitiless expressions. Renjun can practically feel their silent rage.

Before he can say anything—maybe an apology, maybe a whimper—his mother speaks for him.

“Where did you go tonight, Renjun?” She says, voice ice cold and eerily calm. There’s no sweetness now, only poison.

“I—I went to go spend time with a friend.” Renjun says shakily. It’s not a lie, but it’s not the whole truth, either. He’s treading lightly, but he thinks that even that wouldn’t help him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how late it got until later.”

His father stands up, Renjun flinching at the motion, and it’s only then that Renjun notices that he’s holding something in his hands. His sketchbook.

No. No no no no no. This can’t be happening, this can’t—

“This…’friend’,” his father starts, and Renjun is frozen, wishing the floor would swallow him up so he doesn’t have to do this, “is this him?”

His father opens his sketchbook to a painfully familiar face, smile wide and eyes curved up into crescents. A piece of paper falls out between the pages—Jeno’s latest letter.

Renjun doesn’t answer, can’t answer. He’s too terrified to speak.

“Are you fraternizing with a goddamn _ Lee _ , son?” His father presses on, raising his voice. Renjun winces at the way his father spits out Jeno’s name like a curse, hates that he doesn’t even acknowledge his first name.

“ _ Answer me!”  _ His father bellows, Renjun flinching at the sound. 

His mother puts a hand over his father’s fist, easing him down from his fury. It doesn't make the fear coiling in his gut any less potent.

“Let me ask you a very fair question.” His mother says, her eyes daggers as they pierce through Renjun’s own. “Do you love him?”

Renjun takes in a breath, the answer on the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t look down, stares right back at her, because he refuses to be ashamed of him, of them. “Yes.”

He can’t prepare for the way both of his parents’ nostrils flare, the way they’re coming closer, closer, way too close, and Renjun’t can’t run, frozen in fear as they get their hands on him, tears springing into his eyes and a plead on his lips.

He gets thrown into his room, dark and unwelcoming and chilly in the night time, his body aching when he gets thrown against the hardwood. The worst part is the loud slam of the door, and the telltale sound of a lock clicking. 

Renjun gets up on shaky legs, practically crawls towards his bed before curling into a ball. It’s then that he pulls the covers over himself, and lets out all the sobs he’s been holding back all this time.

Renjun is so, so cold.

. . .

  
  


He feels like he’s been sleepwalking for the past few weeks, drifting between his bed, his desk for when someone brings him food—his parents are that much humane, at least—and the balcony, his only access to the outside world. 

He feels numb as a maid walks in to set down his breakfast. He asks her if she’s seen Ten, because if there’s anyone he wants to see right now, it’s him, but she shakes her head. Says that his parents already fired him, probably for not keeping a better eye on him. He’s long run out of tears to cry, but he lets out a dry sob after the maid closes the door, locking it behind her.

He discovers later that day that all of the letters he kept, his pencils, his sketchbook—it’s all gone. His room doesn’t feel like his own anymore, too barren and too empty. He almost laughs after he fully realizes the punishment his parents have set out for him—they’ve made him a prisoner in his own damn house.

Periwinkle hasn’t come by in those days. Renjun wonders if Jeno is okay, if his parents found out too and is locking him up in his room like Renjun’s did. If they sent him anywhere, made sure they were as far away from each other as possible. He wonders if they hurt him like his did.

More often than not he finds himself on the balcony on nights where his mind is too loud to let him fall asleep, staring out at the night sky. He can’t see the stars as clearly as he did at the clearing, but it’s still somewhat comforting, at the very, very least.

Renjun sighs into the cold night air, about to go back inside before he hears a rustling of leaves below him, and a grunt that sounds far too close, almost as if—

A hand grasps onto the railing of the balcony, effectively scaring the living daylights out of Renjun before he realizes who the said hand is attached to.

“Jeno?” Renjun exclaims incredulously. There, in all of his crazed, disheveled, sweaty glory, is Jeno, managing to shoot Renjun a charming grin even as he holds onto the railing for dear life, one foot on the ledge of the balcony, the other perched in a conveniently placed groove on the side of the wall. 

“Hi,” Jeno says, casual, as if this is the most normal thing in the world. He’s lucky he’s already in a life threatening situation, or Renjun would’ve smacked him for being so reckless, though he’s trying very hard not to kiss the living daylights out of him right now, so, so happy to see him.

“What are you doing here? How did you get up here? Oh my god, do you know how high up this is? What the  _ fuck _ —” Renjun rambles. 

“Y’know, it’s not as uncomfortable as it looks. You have strong walls, I feel pretty safe.” Jeno says. Renjun shoots him a look.

“Fine, fine, just give me—ugh—a moment.” Jeno huffs, swinging one leg over the railing. Renjun’s not the strongest boy in the world, but he does manage to help Jeno pull himself over so he doesn’t crack a bone on his way over.

The first thing Jeno does now that all his limbs aren’t otherwise preoccupied is pull Renjun into his arms, and Renjun reciprocates easily. It’s cold out, and Jeno always seems to be so, so warm.

“I missed you,” Jeno says honestly, and Renjun sighs happily into his chest. 

“I missed you too,” Renjun says, letting his chest swell with elation now that Jeno has a low chance of falling and cracking his skull.

He has so many questions, so he starts with the first one that pops into his mind. “How did you know I’d be here?”

Jeno pulls an arm away from Renjun’s waist to rub at the back of his neck. “Uh, Ten told me, actually.” 

Renjun blinks. Once. Twice. “Ten?”

“Yeah, he sent me a carrier pigeon. Said your parents locked you away. Are you alright, by the way? Because if I could I’d have some  _ very  _ strong words for your parents—”

Renjun is only half listening, too busy reeling at the knowledge that Ten knew Renjun hasn’t stopped seeing Jeno since that night, and that he supports them. 

“Wait,” Renjun says, interrupting Jeno’s cute, if clearly angry rambling. “What about you? I didn’t hear from you for weeks.”

Jeno shakes his head. “They found out, too. I was scared they were going to do something to Periwinkle, so I set him free before they could get the chance too. They were livid, to say the least, Donghyuck was even more livid, but the worse I’ve gotten is a punch to the gut and a lot of shunning. I don’t think I can come to any family reunions anytime soon.” Jeno laughs, but Renjun can tell he’s upset too.

“I’m sorry.” Renjun says, not sure what he’s saying sorry for. He offers a sympathetic peck on the nose, moving to Jeno’s cheeks, eyelids, before finally landing on his lips.

“It’s alright,” Jeno says when they pull apart, “they’re not why I came here, anyways.”

“Why did you come here?” Renjun asks. “Not that I’m not absolutely thrilled to see you, and amazed that you even made it up here, but—what happens to us now?”

Jeno takes in a deep breath, and Renjun mentally prepares himself. For what, he’s not sure.

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” Jeno says, and it’s like that fateful day all over again, Jeno’s eyes honest and imploring and slightly crazy and everything Renjun ever wanted.

“Would you...would you run away with me, Renjun?”

_ Oh _ , and that just hits like a punch straight to Renjun’s heart, eyes wide as he stares at Jeno. 

“It’s—It’s fine if you don’t, but I’ve been arranging a little cottage pretty far from Verona, closer to the next next town over actually, that’s why I didn’t come here until now, a-and I bought you some new pencils and paper, even some paints if you’d like, I don’t know I just think you could do great work as an artist, but—”

Renjun doesn’t need to hear any more, already pushing forward to throw his arms around Jeno’s neck and kiss him stupid, feeling tears of joy come on.

“Yes, yes, please. I want all of that, please get me out of here.” Renjun says in between kisses, feeling Jeno’s lips stretch into a smile.

Jeno holds onto him tighter at that, pulling him closer, closer, until Renjun can feel his heart beat in tandem with Jeno’s. “I love you.” Jeno says, and Renjun lets a tear fall this time. God, he’s  _ so _ happy.

“I love you too,” Renjun says back, giggling when Jeno picks him up and spins him around.

“Just, one question though.” Renjun says after the moment is over. “How are we getting down from here?”

Jeno blinks, as if it’s the first time he’s thought of that, before looking into Renjun’s room. He eyes the drapes on his canopy, his sheets, his blankets, and his closet that Renjun knows is filled with too expensive, untouched clothes. He turns his head towards the railing then, sturdy and concrete, before looking back at Renjun.

“Well,” he starts. “Fabric is as good as rope as any, right?”

. . . 

Joohyun can’t say she likes her job all that much. Sure, it pays well, but working for the Huang family makes her feel more like she’s working in a prison than a house. They’ve locked their son up in his room for some reason she’s not sure of, and decided it was up to her to make sure he doesn’t starve to death. She feels bad for the kid—he doesn’t even acknowledge her presence anymore when she brings in his meals, aiming a blank stare at whatever’s in front of him instead. 

Today is supposed to be a normal day. Joohyun is supposed to softly knock on Renjun’s door (she tries to be as hospitable as possible), enter anyways, and drop off his breakfast. Most of that is still the same, except—Renjun isn’t there. 

Joohyun almost drops the plate at the state of the room in front of her. The bed’s been stripped absolutely bare, the closet a mess, but her eyes draw especially to the mess of fabrics that make up what she thinks is a rope, a secure knot tied to the balcony railings and descending below. 

A little ways away from the knot is a single pigeon, walking along the railings and chirping into the morning air. It looks at her dead in the eyes, lets out a weirdly mocking purr, before taking off to god-knows-where.  Oh, today is absolutely  _ not  _ a normal day.

**Author's Note:**

> this is a mess but we made it through!
> 
> here’s my [twt](https://mobile.twitter.com/renjunethereal) if you want to talk to me about soft noren and here’s my [cc](https://curiouscat.me/renjunethereal) if you want to do that but also stay anonymous!


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